Chapter 3
Chapter Three
The familiar scent of coffee and freshly baked pastries envelops me as I walk into Rosie’s Cafe.
We take a seat in a corner booth.
She leans forward, her elbows on the table. “How are you doing?”
I sigh, fiddling with the menu in front of me. “I’m… okay, I guess,” I mumble. “It’s just been like…”
“Rough? Yeah, I get it. But hey, you’re here, you’re dressed?—”
“Barely,” I interject, gesturing to my hastily thrown-on jeans and oversized t-shirt.
“—and you’re out of the house,” she continues, undeterred. “I’d call that a win.”
Before I can respond, a waiter appears at our table, his pen poised over his notepad. “What can I get for you ladies today?”
“I’ll have a caramel latte and a blueberry muffin,”
“Um, just a black coffee for me, thanks,” I mutter, not meeting the waiter’s eyes.
As he walks away, Lilly kicks me gently under the table. “Seriously? Just coffee? You need to eat something.”
I shrug, feeling defensive. “I’m not hungry.”
“When was the last time you had a proper meal?”
I wrack my brain, trying to remember. “I… I had a taco recently?”
Her eyes widen. “That’s it. I’m ordering you a sandwich. And don’t even think about arguing.”
As if on cue, the waiter returns with our drinks. Before I can protest, she adds a turkey sandwich to our order. The waiter nods and disappears again, leaving me to stare accusingly at my best friend.
“You didn’t have to do that,” I grumble, wrapping my hands around the warm mug of coffee.
“Yes, I did,” she says firmly. “Now, tell me about this drawing you sent me. It was good.” I feel a flutter of pride at her words, quickly followed by a wave of uncertainty. “It was just a quick sketch. Nothing special.”
“Bullshit,” she declares, loud enough to earn us a few curious glances from nearby tables. “You’ve got talent. You always have. Why aren’t you doing more with it?”
I take a sip of my coffee, buying time before I have to answer. I don’t know why I stopped drawing. It just seemed to fade away, like so many other things in my life lately.
“I don’t know,” I admit finally. “It’s been so long. I’m not even sure I remember how to really draw anymore.”
Her face softens. “Oh, honey. That’s not how it works. It’s like riding a bike. You just need to get back on and start pedaling.” As she speaks, the waiter returns with her muffin and my sandwich. The sight and smell of the food make my stomach growl embarrassingly loud, reminding me just how long it’s been since I’ve eaten a proper meal.
“See? Your body knows what it needs. Now eat.”
I take a bite of the sandwich, and it’s like my taste buds have suddenly woken up. Before I know it, I’ve devoured half of it.
“So,” she says, delicately wiping muffin crumbs from her lips, “what’s stopping you from drawing more? And don’t say Jeremy.”
I nearly choke on my sandwich. “I wasn’t going to say Jeremy,” I lie, even though that’s exactly where my mind went.
She furrows her brows. “Sure. Look, Lex, I know things have been tough with him lately, but you can’t let that stop you from doing what you love.”
“It’s not just him, it’s… everything. I feel stuck. Like I’m just going through the motions every day, waiting for something to change.”
“And what if you’re the change?” she asks, leaning forward. “What if picking up that pencil again is the first step to getting unstuck?”
I open my mouth to argue, but no words come out.
“Maybe it’s time I start really drawing again.”
Her smile widens. “That’s my girl. Now, finish your sandwich. We’ve got an art supply store to visit.”
The bell above the art store’s door chimes as Lilly drags me inside, her enthusiasm radiating off her in waves. The scent of fresh paper and paint hits me.
“Okay, where do we start?”
I can’t help but chuckle at her excitement. “You realize I’m the artist here, right?”
She sticks her tongue out at me. “Details, details. Come on, let’s go wild!”
As we wander down an aisle filled with sketchbooks, I run my fingers along the spines, feeling the different textures. “You know,” I say, “I used to dream about having an unlimited budget in a place like this.”
She grabs a leather-bound sketchbook off the shelf, holding it out to me like it’s made of gold. “Well, consider this your fairy godmother moment. Any sketchbook you want, it’s yours.”
I raise an eyebrow. “No, that one’s like fifty bucks.”
“And?” she challenges. “Consider it an investment in your future as a famous artist.”
I roll my eyes but can’t keep the smile off my face. “Fine, but I’m buying my own pencils.”
We make our way to the pencil section, where Lilly picks up a set of colorful markers. “Ooh, what about these?”
“For sketching?” I laugh. “Not unless I want my drawings to look like a kindergartener’s art project.”
She pouts playfully. “Hey, don’t knock down kindergarten art.”
As I’m examining a set of graphite pencils, she gasps dramatically. I look up to see her holding a ridiculously large paintbrush. “Lex! This is it! This is what your art has been missing!”
I can’t hold back my laughter. “Oh yeah, because what every sketch artist needs is a paintbrush the size of their head.”
She waves it around like a wand. “Alexis the Great, Master of Gigantic Brushstrokes!”
An elderly woman browsing nearby gives us a disapproving look, which only makes us laugh harder.
After what feels like hours of Lilly’s antics and my half-hearted attempts to actually shop, we finally make it to the checkout with a respectable haul of supplies.
As we walk back to her car, arms filled with bags, she bumps her hip against mine. “See? Wasn’t this more fun than moping at home?”
I nod, feeling lighter than I have in weeks. “Yeah, yeah, you were right. Don’t let it go to your head.”
As she pulls up in front of my house, I feel a twinge of reluctance to leave this bubble of happiness we’ve created.
She must sense my hesitation because she turns to me with a soft smile. “Hey, you’ve got this, okay? Just promise me you’ll actually use those supplies.”
I nod, gathering my bags. “I promise. Thanks for today. I mean it.”
As I’m about to close the car door, she calls out, “See you later!”
I wave her bye and watch her drive away, then turn to head inside.